Pant. What may this mean? and whither would he drive us?
Lat. And first, for what you must do, because all danger
Shall be apparantly ty'd up and muzl'd,
The matter seeming mighty: there's your pardons.
Pant. Pardons? Is't come to that? gods defend us.
Lat. And here's five hundred Crowns in bounteous earnest,
And now behold the matter. [Latorch gives each a paper.
But. What are these, Sir?
Yeo. And of what nature? to what use?
Lat. Imagine.
Coo. Will they kill Rats? they eat my pyes abominably,
Or work upon a woman cold as Christmas?
I have an old Jade sticks upon my fingers,
May I taste them?
Lat. Is your will made?
And have you said your prayers? for they'le pay you:
And now to come up to you, for your knowledge,
And for the good you never shall repent you
If you be wise men now.
Coo. Wise as you will, Sir.